Red Lines and Demon Eyes
by remember91808
Summary: Dean is having a mental breakdown about what just happened between him and Sam. But did it really happen?


_Come on Dean, just one more. Even if it is too deep, it's not like anyone is going to miss you. You're just one person in a world of six billion. Listen to me when I say that no one will care. No. One. Will. Care._

Breathe. Focus. I have to breathe and focus.

I lifted my head off my knees and all I saw was white. White walls. White floor. Wait. There was something else too. It's red. And there's a lot of it.

My breathing came easier, and my eyesight came back into focus, though I wish it hadn't. I had deep and shallow razor blade cuts all over my arms and legs, and there was blood everywhere. On me. On the white tile floor. Everywhere.

I looked down at my bleeding wrists and legs. How did this get so bad? Wait how did this even happen? I don't even remember making these.

_I helped you remember? I helped you make those beautiful lines on your body. You had such an immense amount of anger built in this body of yours that I couldn't let it go to waste. Something had to be done._

Sammy? Where's Sam? He can help me. He can help me stop these…urges.

_Don't you remember? You and Sam got into a pretty nasty fight. Do you remember what it was about?_

I wracked my brain trying to remember the argument that made Sam leave me. The over protective brother that I've loved since the day he was born. He even told me that no matter what happens, no matter how royally I screwed up, he would never leave me when danger was in the vicinity. And looking at myself now, I'd say the new danger to me, was me.

_Oh, you royally screwed up this time. You yelled at him for being a disgrace to the Winchester family. Oh and it only gets better. I quote, "Only freaks have demon blood in them. And freaks don't belong in this family, Sam. Freaks belong in Hell with all the other freaks._

I shook my head violently. I couldn't believe I had said all those things to him. I was always so careful not to bring up his demon blood situation.

_You want to make it up to him?_

I nodded quickly. But, how was I going to get him to forgive me?

_Don't worry. I have a grand plan that will work perfectly. Just do as I say and let me work my magic, and this will all go off without a hitch._

I felt myself get up off the floor. I looked around and finally came to the conclusion that I had been sitting against the wall in the tiny bathroom of our hotel room. I crossed the small room, away from the wall, to the mirrored sink.

My usual bright, dark-blonde hair, looked dull and lifeless. My face was tear-streaked and my eyes were red and puffy. My gaze left the mirror and travelled down the rest of my body. I cringed at my horrifying appearance. I had stripped myself of my t-shirt and jeans, and my arms and legs were littered with cuts. Most were shallow and weren't bleeding too bad, but there were a few that were bleeding profusely and would need stitches. The blood traveled down my arms and legs, dripping from my fingertips and pooling around my feet.

I looked back to where I had been previously sitting and gagged. Broken razors and their blades were scattered across the small pool of blood from where I had just been.

_Come on. You do not have enough time to feel bad about all of this. Sam is almost home. You want this apology to work right?_

I quickly nodded my head while the voice continued.

_Alright. Now, I want you to go into Sam's duffle and get his favorite knife. You will sit along the back wall facing the door. I want you to continue making cuts on your arms and legs using his knife. When Sam comes through the door, don't stop what you're doing even if he tells you to stop. Don't acknowledge him. All I want you to say is 'I'm sorry Sam. I'm sorry.'_

_Also, don't let him take the knife from you, even if it means fighting him for it. But do not injure him. If he manages to get the knife away from you, stop the fighting. _

_After that everything will fall into place. Do you understand all of this?_

I quickly nodded again.

_Good. Now get ready. Sam is just about back._

I nodded again as I rushed out of the bathroom to Sam's duffle and quickly found his favorite knife. The only thing special about his knife, is that I had given it to him the night before his sixteenth birthday. He said that it meant the world to him.

I held the knife up in front of my face. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

_You're questioning me?_

I didn't answer and images of the fight Sam and I had flashed across my vision. I screamed, dropped the knife, and fell into the fetal position at the foot of Sam's bed.

_See! Don't question me! You are the evil one here. The only way you can be forgiven is if you are in as much pain as him. Show Sam you are truly sorry by putting yourself through his pain._

I lifted up my head, acknowledging that the voice was right. I let my brother/best friend down and pain _was_ the only way to show how sorry I was.

I heard the door handle jiggle and hurriedly picked Sam's knife. Tears streamed down my face as I slammed myself against the wall and proceeded to make marks on my arms and legs.

Sam opened the door and his vision was luckily blocked by giant bags of groceries. "Hey Dean! Can you give me a hand?" He placed the bags on the counter and paused when I didn't answer. "Dean? Dean, where are- Shit!"

I didn't stop tracing lines on myself even when I heard his outburst.

"DEAN!" he yelled, running across the room and slid down to meet me at eye level.

"I'm sorry Sam. I'm sorry." I rocked back and forth while slicing myself and thinking back to the images of our fight. Thinking back to those images just made me cry harder and cut deeper.

Sam was freaking out horribly by this point as he put his hands on my shoulders and gently shook me while he said, "Dean! Dean listen to me! Please Dean, you've got to stop." When I didn't acknowledge him, he reached for his knife, but I recoiled away before he could get it. "Dammit please stop Dean," Sam said close near tears. "Please, you're going to kill yourself if you keep this up."

He attempted to reach for it again, but I screamed and pushed myself further against the wall. "I'm sorry Sam! I'm sorry. Only pain will make you believe me! I'm sorry Sam! I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head and spoke softly, but strictly, "What the hell are you sorry for?" He didn't give me a chance to answer before he continued. "Dean, you've got nothing to be sorry for. So, please. Stop hurting yourself."

I paused for half a second at what he said, but that half a second gave him the upper and he caught me off guard when he lunged at me and managed to grab the hilt of the knife. But I did what the voice told me to do, and I fought back. Unfortunately, Sam got the upper hand and he managed to wrench the knife from my grasp. I wrapped myself into the fetal position as Sam chunked the knife across the room. I gently looked up at him when I heard him suck in a breath. More tears flooded down my cheeks when I saw a shallow, bleeding gash on his cheek. I was told not to hurt him, and I had failed.

I pushed him away from me and fled to the small space between the wall and bed. I hurt him, and now he will never forgive me. My head fell to my hands and I cried like I had never cried before.

A few minutes later, I felt the bed move away from me. I lifted my head from my hands and saw Sam walking towards me. I tried to push myself closer to the wall, but he sat down beside me. I still didn't want to touch him, for fear I might hurt him. But Sam pulled me to him before I could move, and next thing I knew, I was in his lap with my face in his chest.

Twenty minutes later, I was still crying and whispering apologies into his chest, when Sam and I felt my body seize. "Dean, talk to me? Are you ok?"

I went to answer him, but found that I couldn't. My throat was closing up and I couldn't breathe. I pushed myself away from Sam and grabbed my neck. I started coughing and choking, trying to dislodge whatever was in my throat. I finally gave one last gasp and cough before falling to the floor.

Sam crawled towards me and placed my head in his lap. He felt around for my pulse, and I saw him grin with relief when he found it. My eye lids were so heavy, that I just wanted to close them and sleep. I got a nod from Sam saying that it was ok, and I grinned back. I went to close my eyes, but stopped when they landed on a deep black mist with what seemed like glowing red eyes, floating behind Sam.

I was horribly confused now. Was I possessed throughout all of this? Did I or did I not say all those things to Sam? But before I could get my answer, the black mist disappeared through the vents and I passed out more confused than ever.


End file.
